TBD
by Mahealani42
Summary: This is my first story since creating a new account (I've taken a looong hiatus from fanfiction), so this fanfic is a work in progress, warm up my typing fingers, and get back into the grind kind of story. The plot is not set enough to give a very good description aside from: a tale of Renesme and Jacob's return home. (OC, rated M because who knows what'll happen?)


"Renesme!"

Blue flashes, blurred trees…. Snow falls gracefully through the sky and I leap to catch the magic dust in my palm—

"RENESME! Wake up—oh-shit—great-come on, open up!"

I roll over dazedly to see Jacob pounding on the glass of the car window so mightily it's a wonder it doesn't break. I blink slowly, my mind gradually coming back to life, and I give a sharp jerk as reality sinks back in.

Right, Jacob went in to get coffee or something. Oh and—oops, he spilled it. He's always so frazzled.

I give a little laugh as I lean across the middle console to unlock the door. I've barely begun to retreat into the back seat again when Jacob yanks the door open so violently that the whole car gives a great shudder.

"Careful there, Jake. Don't want to break this one too, do you?" I chuckle and lean back, popping a gummy bear in my mouth. It's not very tasty but I'm so hungry I doesn't even matter. We haven't been able to hunt for weeks, so I just have to make do with what we have, and what we have is human food. Sadly.

"Don't start," he snaps. "How the hell do you fall asleep so fast?"

My favorite sunny smile softens his words, and I return it, propping my feet up on the driver's side seat and lobbing a gummy bear at his head, as I say, "I like dreaming is all."

He then flashes me a sad smile, and cleans himself up in silence, before climbing in and starting the car. I lean forward so that my cheek is parallel to his shoulder. "So are we going home now?"

He glances down at me briefly, and, ignoring my question, says "How do you feel about going back to Washington? I mean, we could stay with my dad, and you could see Charlie—I mean, your grandad. It's been so many years.. It has to be safe.."

I lean back as he continues to mutter to himself about the possible dangers of taking me back. I know there might be some danger, but we've been all over the world. My earliest memories after we left forks are of balmy tropics. I think we were in South America, but Jacob never wanted to tell me. We were there for several years, moving from country to country, never settling anywhere for long. My favorite place we stayed was a small village surrounded by greenery. Almost too green, an alien planet. It was beautiful. The cottages were small, white; and a community farm held the necessities. The villagers were very good to me, and we were housed by a kindly woman who didn't seem to have a family of her own, but was loved by all. Her warm brown eyes were home to me, until, eight months later, we moved on again. I could always tell when it was time, because Jacob would become tense, scattered. He always seemed fearful of those who may be following us. I was sad to go.

After that we went to Africa, I know this because he wasn't able to hide the plane ticket from me. We never did venture to Europe. I always assumed it was because the Volturi would be too close there. We did stay in Canada, briefly, but then relocated again.

Currently we're in sunny Arizona, staying at my grandmother's house. She was blown away to hear she has a granddaughter. She never does ask me where my mother is. Jacob must have talked to her…

I'm pulled out of my daze when we arrive at home. We've lived here now for eight years, and it's the closest thing to home I've ever known.

When we walk in the front door, the smell of spaghetti hits my nose, and a little bit of something burnt. The scent is only mildly appetizing, but the longer I eat human food, the better it tastes. Plus, it's much more practical. That's what Jacob always says.

Grandmother pokes her head out of the kitchen as we are taking off our shoes, and grins, "You two get cleaned up, dinner's nearly ready."

Phil pops out behind her, wearing a "Kiss the Cook" apron, and hugs her around her large tummy. She's hugely pregnant, and clearly not making dinner. Jacob tells me she's a famously bad cook.

"She burnt the toast," he chuckles and kisses her on the cheek, before retreating into the kitchen, laughing.

"Ah, you!" Grandmother cries, a patchy, lovely blush crawling across her cheeks. "I think the toaster is broken, really!" She flashes us an embarrassed smile, and wobbles after him.

I smile widely, "They're lovely, aren't they? How many weeks off is she? I'm so excited." Then I dart off to my room, without waiting for an answer.

The carpet tickles my feet, and I lie back on my bed and close my eyes, hoping to return to the day dream I was exploring in the car.

Yet again Jacob interrupts by knocking gently on my open bedroom door before walking in. I have never been irritated with him, never truly. It's hard to be annoyed with someone who seems to warm you like the sun. However, in this moment, I was coming very close.

I settle up onto my elbows and bat my eyelashes at him. "Yes, Jacob?" I say sweetly.

His face has slightly paled and he inches timidly into the room, very unlike him, and shuts the door gently behind him. He glances at my face and almost immediately looks back down. I rise to walk over to him and take his hand. "What is it?"

"Nothing—I—shit well, never mind, Nessie," His face turns a pretty red color, and he snatches his hand from my grasp, and takes a seat on my bed.

"O-kay?" I sit next him, bemused. There's clearly something wrong.

The blush still lingers in his face but he seems to compose himself, and looks me in the eye.

"We are returning to Forks."

Jacob seems to hold his breath as he searches my face for a reaction, but I feel nothing, so there was no reaction to look for in the first place. I cast my eyes down.

"Do you mean it this time?" I mumble, slightly bored with the conversation. Jacob has been debating to go back there for years. There has been quite a few false alarms, so I've chosen to stay detached whenever he brings up the idea. It just hurts that much less when he changes his mind.

"Nessy, I really do! Come on, you gotta believe me. I know.. it's just never been the right time," his voice is energetic, but I keep my eyes to the floor, not risking any amount of hope. "Ness?"

I sigh and look at him. His eyes are bright and concerned. "You say this almost every year, Jake."

"I know but I really mean it, I promise," he says fiercely, and grins. My heart leaps. It think he really means it. A slow smile spreads across my face, and I sit up straighter.

"Really?"

"Really."

I leap into his arms and bury my face in his neck, elation burning through my veins. I can feel his heart pounding against my chest, and suddenly a very different feeling comes over me as his arms tighten around my waist. I feel my face redden and my pulse quicken. I feel as if the air could be sliced with a knife, when he suddenly releases me. His face is inches from mine and he tucks a stray strand of hair behind my ear.

I pull away suddenly and stammer, "Dinner's probably ready." And bolt downstairs, leaving him with his mouth hanging open and his hand outstretched. I frown as I load my plate, wondering what came over me. Then I shake my head, deciding it doesn't matter.

A grin replaces the frown and I remember, I'm going home.


End file.
